Frank Ocean has ended four years of speculation and confusion by dropping two albums in the space of 24 hours.
Endless, the first of the two, is a 45 minute video-album which presents a chilling flow of lo-fi waves, accompanied by a black and white montage which depicts Ocean constructing a spiral staircase. While Endless can certainly be identified as Ocean with its spacious yet highly emotional tone – the album is not (nor does it aim to be) a completely polished follow-up to 2012’s Channel Orange. Instead, Ocean ventures into a fair amount of expressive experimentation, resulting in some completely new sounds such as the futuristic techno cut titled ‘Device Control’. With all its symbolism aside, Endless should be interpreted as a standalone (almost B-Side) project which successfully makes up for lost time.
Blonde, the second of Ocean’s releases, is a more wholesome work which serves as collection of diary entries that may more aptly explain Frank Ocean’s absence – yet it makes no apologies for his four year silence.
“These bitches want Nikes” are the first words uttered out of Blonde and so we will adhere to such desires through the following image:
It may not be the most memorable of lines but the opening phrase, along with this image, encompass one of Ocean’s key conflicts with a consumerist society – which is inescapable even for Ocean himself, as highlighted by his big bucks deal with Apple Music. While Kanye West – who has previously collaborated with Ocean – is selling baggy ripped t-shirts for upwards of $250, multiple tracks, including Andre 3000’s ‘Solo (Reprise)’ question such materialism – Andre stating himself that he is “Tryna cut down on my spending/Regardless of winning, instead of pretending”.
On top of this, the above photograph’s dangly-legged tree-climber is defaced and therefore unidentifiable; much alike the unknown personalities which emerge out of the 17 tracks. Some tunes such as ‘Ivy’ employ a distorted chipmunk-y, high pitched voice which suggest the multiple perspectives within Ocean’s musical stories. On the other hand, ‘Pretty Sweet’ sweeps you up in an orchestrated whirlwind which contains a children’s choir at the eye of the storm. These youthful voices echo Ocean’s reach for an unattainable childhood innocence – or as the photography puts it; the fading juvenile thrill from scaling a tree.
The multiple personalities of Blonde is also reflected in its completely contradictory messages. ‘Be Yourself’ is an interlude which consists of a voicemail (apparently from Ocean’s mother) which urges the listener to steer clear of substance abuse. This is directly followed by the bouncy lyrics of ‘Solo’, where Ocean is quick to describe himself as “gone off acid”. All in all, this leaves the listener within a slight air of confusion around the identities and messages within Blonde. For all we know, that may be Frank himself sitting up in that tree, wearing those Nikes which he despises.
Ultimately, the polarities which each track embodies may go some way in explaining Ocean’s extended leave; as Blonde transcends a purely musical endeavour, becoming a medium for the artist’s own self-discovery.
The church spire in the backdrop of the image also alludes to the sound quality within the album, with a large majority of the tracklist containing church organ resonances which perfectly pulse along with Ocean’s dreamy vocals.
These sacred timbres may hold a mirror to Ocean’s painfully divided spirituality which he presents across the album. For instance, ‘Godspeed’ through its references to biblical text (John 12:40) and the presence of gospel singer Kim Burell, urges forth the presence of God in the name of love. Meanwhile ‘Solo’ openly admits Ocean’s sinful guilt which provokes him from such religious experiences, describing his surroundings as “hell on Earth”. Ultimately, the polarities which each track embodies may go some way in explaining Ocean’s extended leave; as Blonde transcends a purely musical endeavour, becoming a medium for the artist’s own self-discovery.
The above photograph of Greek goddess Melpomene is a reflection of the self-discovering journey which Blonde takes us on, as Ocean unmasks his fame and fortune, to create a work which is for the pleasure of no one but himself. The almost selfish nature of such a release is most evident within the album’s eclectic range of ‘contributors’ – from Yung Lean to David Bowie – whose additions remain incredibly minimal and sometimes unheard; taking a backseat to Ocean’s own musical visions.
The image also reflects Blonde’s serene nature, with many tracks abandoning a strong drumming backbeat in order to create moments of statue-like motionless. How one interprets such motionless is a matter of musical preference. In fact, Blonde is a very similar experience to visiting a museum like the one illustrated above. It may induce a sedative sleepiness in some, or alternatively produce a timeless experience which engenders a true level of awe. Either way, this extended metaphor constructs us (the listener) as the insignificant onlooking tourists – which I think is quite an accurate representation.
After snapping the above photograph I was instantly drawn to the album’s interlude: ‘Facebook Story’, where producer SebastiAn recalls a crumbled relationship, destroyed at the hands of social media. Listen to it and you’ll see what I mean.
This final image fittingly represents the conclusion of Blonde, which departs us with a melancholic force. A force which is hard to put into words. The main inspiration for the photograph comes from one of Ocean’s final posing questions within ‘Seigfried’ (a personal favorite): “Maybe I’m a fool to settle for a place with a nice view/Maybe I should move and settle/two kids and a swimming pool”. But as I said, the album’s final power can’t quite be explained with words – so it won’t be. Instead, soak in the whole album with all of the above visuals.
Campbell Mowat
visualbums 